


Revenge Doesn't Have to Hurt

by LostGirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Orgasm Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-12
Updated: 2005-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl/pseuds/LostGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley makes Giles wear that damn pink helmet.  Giles retaliates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge Doesn't Have to Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for [](http://theferretgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://theferretgirl.livejournal.com/)**theferretgirl** , the FW Wesley to my FW Giles! ::laughs:: I hope you like it, sweetie! **Happy Birthday, FG!**
> 
> Title: Revenge Doesn't Have to Hurt  
> Author: Lostgirl  
> Pairing: Giles/Wesley  
> Rating: R  
> Summary: Wesley makes Giles wear that damn pink helmet. Giles retaliates.  
> Spoilers: None.  
> 

Giles raised an eyebrow at the florescent pink helmet Wesley held out to him before looking back to his lover.  "You expect me to--"

"It's the only other one I have and it's too small for me."  There was a glint of mischief in Wesley's eyes and Giles shook his head.

"You realize I'm going to get you back for this, don't you?"

Wesley just grinned, continuing to hold out the helmet until Giles snatched it from him and put it on, grumbling about his head being bigger than Wesley's.  His mumbling only drew a chuckle from Wes as the man threw a leg over his motorcycle and nodded for Giles to get on behind him.  "I've often thought you had a big head, love, but I don't mind your arrogance.  We will, however, be late if you don't get a move on."

Rolling his eyes, Giles got on behind Wes, his hands moving at once to his lover's leather-clad hips.  Giles slid closer as Wes pulled onto the street, pressing his half-hard cock against the small of Wesley's back.  The little, almost-stifled groan that got from Wesley made him smile, his prick hardening further.

Giles leaned in, wishing he could get to Wesley's ears or neck, wishing he could whisper and have Wes hear him over the wind.  Instead he let his hands slide forward to Wesley's thighs, squeezing slightly.

"Rupert?  What do you think you're doing?"  Wesley called back, his voice sounding slightly strained though it was hard to tell.

"Getting back at you," Giles replied, his fingers creeping higher up Wes' thigh as he pressed his erection more firmly against Wesley.  He let his fingertips explore the growing bulge in Wes' trousers, unsure whether or not he'd gotten a moan out of Wesley or if that was just the wind.  He kept his touches light, just barely feathering his fingers up and down the outline of Wes' cock against the leather.

"That's hardly . . . I mean . . . do you want me to run into something?  Or . . . Oh, god," the last Giles was sure he heard as his fingers began firmly stroking Wesley's erection more firmly, running up and down in a line next to Wes' zip.

"Run into something?  No, love, that would ruin all my fun," Giles laughed as his fingers found the zip, closing around it and pulling slowly downward.

"Uh, R-Rupert, I . . . Oh, my . . . I . . ."

Giles couldn't help the grin he knew Wesley couldn't see, didn't even care to try.  "How far to Sunnydale?" He asked with a wicked edge to his voice.

"An hour and an h-half," Wes called back to him as Giles slipped his fingers inside his lover's trousers, fingers meet warm, hard flesh and a hint of moisture.

"No underwear?  Wesley, so bold of you."  Giles wrapped his fingers around his lover's cock and squeezed before pulling away to start with those light, barely there touches once again.

"You can't honestly . . . Do you know what would happen if I . . . If I c-came while, while driving?"

"Who said I was going to let you come?"  Giles was sure of the groan this time.  "An hour and a half spent hard as a rock and having to walk into the Magic Box with an erection in tight leather trousers.  Hmm, yes, I think that's about equal to the helmet."

"You're . . . oh, god," Wesley groaned the last bit loud enough for Giles to hear.  It was hardly a surprise given that Giles had just wrapped his hand around his lover's erection, giving it a slow stroke and squeeze before once again withdrawing.  "You're evil."

Giles could feel his grin nearly splitting his face behind the visor of the ridiculous pink helmet.  "Just a little, yes."


End file.
